settled, and it is safe to say that a group of happier young
people could not be found anywhere than those who discussed excitedly,
until late into the night, the coming trip with all its marvelous
possibilities.
The next two days flew by all too rapidly. The girls, of course, had
plenty of time, but Joe and Jim had a host of things to attend to and a
very limited time to do them in. But somehow, Joe made time enough to say
a lot of things to Mabel that, to lovers at least, seem important, and
Jim, though not daring to go quite so far, looked and said quite enough to
deepen the roses in Clara's cheeks and the loveliness in her eyes.
It was hard to part when the time for parting came, but this time there
was no long six-months' separation to be dreaded--that is, as far as the
young folks were concerned.
Mr. and Mrs. Matson had counted on having their son with them throughout
the fall and winter, but they had been accustomed for so long to merge
their own happiness in that of their children that they kept up bright
faces while they said good-bye, although Mrs. Matson's smile was
tremulous.
A day and night of traveling and the ball players reached Chicago, where,
at the Blackstone, they found McRae awaiting them--the same old McRae,
aggressive, pugnacious, masterful, and yet with a glint of worry in his
eyes that had not been there at the close of the World's Series.
Robbie was there too, rotund and rubicund, but not just the Robbie who had
danced the tango with McRae before the clubhouse on the occasion of the
great victory.
But if worry and anxiety had set their mark upon the manager and trainer
of the Giants, it had not affected the players, who were lounging about
the corridor of the hotel.
A bunch of them, including Burkett and Denton and good old Larry, gave the
newcomers a tumultuous welcome.
"Cheer, cheer, the gang's all here!" cried Larry.
McRae clasped Joe's hand in a grip that almost made him wince.
"So the new league hasn't got you yet, Joe?" he cried.
"No," laughed Joe, returning his clasp; "and it never will!"
CHAPTER VIII
THE RIVAL TEAMS
Robbie, who had come up just in time to hear Joe's last words, gave him a
resounding thump on the back.
"That's the way to talk, Joe, old boy!" he cried. "I've been telling Mac
all along that no matter who else weakens he could bet his last dollar on
you."
"Not that I needed any bracing up," declared McRae. "I know a man when I
se
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